


where our design had failed (there is a book full of plans)

by caughtinkhanded



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/F, Post-Season/Series 02
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-13
Updated: 2015-12-13
Packaged: 2018-05-06 12:55:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5417894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caughtinkhanded/pseuds/caughtinkhanded
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clarke is ready to face her demons, or at least one of them. What she wasn't expecting was to feel so deeply for the one she thought hated so much. </p><p>inspired by a quote from Ernest Hemingway: "You are so brave and quiet I forget you are suffering."</p>
            </blockquote>





	where our design had failed (there is a book full of plans)

**Author's Note:**

> title from Dessa's Poor Atlas - check it out, it's excellent

It had been nearly four months since Clarke had actually seen anybody – Grounders or Sky People. Well, she may have not seen them, but they were there. She knew that there were a handful of Grounders tracking her through the woods, making sure she was fed. 

Gone was the girl who had landed on the ground, full of romantic ideals of what beauty the world held. Gone was the child who had tried so hard. Gone was the leader who had foolish notions of good and evil, right and wrong. 

All that remained was Clarke the survivor. 

Because at her core, Clarke was a survivor. She was willing to do what ever it took to survive. 

At first she had been irritated with her Grounder babysitters. They refused to even acknowledge her if she called out to them in the darkness of the forest. But she knew they were there. She would find scraps of food, or a knife, or a canteen of water already boiled. 

Clarke knew why they were following her, although she had not wanted to admit it for some time. 

It was Lexa. Goddamned Lexa. In the past day or so, she had even heard the word ‘heda’ whispered amongst her shadows. 

Who else would send Grounders after her?

Clarke hadn’t been ready to answer that question for some time. But now she was. She was ready to face the person who had burned Clarke’s world to the ground, figuratively at least (Clarke was the only one who was playing with fire). 

She was stronger now. Living off the land like she had for four months tended to do that. Any remnants of softness inherited from the Ark had melted away into toned muscle and cold eyes. Clarke had spent much of her days either walking or training. She forced away the gentleness that tried to rise to the surface. Survival had no room for softness. If Clarke had learned one thing, it was this. 

It was time for her to confront at least one of her demons. 

Clarke began walking eastward, her pack slung over her shoulder and her knife tucked against her belt. Four months ago, Clarke’s feet would have been bleeding and she would’ve cried in pain. But no longer. Clarke was stronger now. 

The sun began to rise in the sky until it hovered above Clarke, its rays bleeding down into Clarke’s hair. She knew that the trackers were following behind her, but she had long since stopped trying to find them. 

A plume of smoke disappeared into the blue sky. As the sun reached its peak, Clarke began to hear the murmurs of civilization. 

Clarke lifted her water bottle to her lips, but found it dry. “Damn,” hissed Clarke. As soon as she knew that her water bottle was empty, her throat began to scratch and itch. “Oh come on.” 

She continued walking until she came upon a small creek. The water was stagnant, its putrid smell cutting through the earthy smell of the woods. Clarke bit back another sigh, but began walking along the creek’s bank. Its source had to be nearby. 

As the sun began to lose its blue tinge and fade into dusty orange, the water began to swell and spill onto rocks and pebbles. Clarke grinned to herself in celebration. 

As the current picked up, the trees gave way to grass and rocks, with trees dotting the edges of the small clearing. Clarke was about to fill her canteen when she saw the other person at the water’s edge. 

Their back was to Clarke, but Clarke would recognize that hair and braiding anywhere: Lexa. 

At first, Clarke’s instinct was to scream at the other girl until her lungs gave out. And then she wanted to run and hide and never see Lexa again. Clarke slipped back towards the trees, mindful of the sound her feet made. 

Her eyes narrowed as Lexa pulled her sword from her sheath and laid it on a rock. A loose white tunic hung from Lexa’s frame, so unlike the armor Clarke had last seen her in. No paint covered Lexa’s face. 

She looked younger than Clarke remembered. Of course, in Clarke’s mind eye, the Lexa she saw was covered in blood with tears in the corners of her eyes. She only saw Heda Leksa. 

So Clarke watched. She watched as Lexa settled down on the rock next to her sword, her legs tucked beneath her. With the sun’s orange rays framing her head, Lexa looked oddly serene. 

Clarke’s breath nearly caught in her chest. 

For a fleeting moment, Clarke could only see Lexa. And then the moment broke and Clarke crashed back to reality. Anger surged back into her; the weight of the Mountain returning to her shoulders 

Before her mind caught up with her, Clarke was striding across the grass towards Lexa. Had this been when she first landed on the ground, Lexa would’ve been able to hear her. But Clarke was no Sky Princess anymore. 

She thought she saw Lexa shift slightly as Clarke neared her, but Lexa made no move to turn to face Clarke. Clarke grasped Lexa’s shoulder and pulled her back. 

“Hello Clarke.” Lexa’s voice was low and soft, not strong like Clarke remembered. 

“Lexa,” Clarke spat the other girl’s name out with as much venom as she could muster. Clarke paused, unsure of what she wanted to say. “How….why…. I thought-“ 

“Clarke,” Lexa reached out for Clarke, but Clarke slapped her hand away. 

“No. Don’t touch me. Don’t you dare touch me. I’m going to talk and you’re going to listen.” Lexa nodded, gesturing for Clarke to sit. Clarke remained standing. “I trusted you.” Clarke frowned deeply as her voice cracked, “I trusted you, and you stabbed me in the back.” 

“I had to do what was best for my people, Clarke.” Clarke hated the way Lexa’s voice wrapped around her name. 

“We had a plan! We had a good plan and you just threw me-us aside. And for what? An alliance with the Mountain Men? Well, guess what, Commander, they’re all dead. I killed every last one of them. And it’s your fault. You are just as responsible as I am. Their deaths should be on your shoulders just as much as they are on mine. Every night I close my eyes and I see their faces. And how do you sleep, Commander,” Clarke’s mouth twisted up into a smile at Lexa’s flinch, “do you see the faces of the dead? All of the lives you ruined?” 

Lexa tore her eyes away from Clarke, “I did what was best for my people. You would’ve done the same had you been in my position.” 

“Perhaps. But we had an alliance. I killed Finn for this alliance and you tossed it away like it was nothing. Like I was nothing, You said you cared about and trusted me. And then what? You betrayed me.” 

“Clarke,” Lexa started to reach out for the blonde, but then thought better of it and withdrew her hand. “You have to understand. I have…my duty it is to my people. I had to save them. No matter the personal cost.” 

“How can you be so cold about this? I know you felt something for me.” Lexa’s eyes dropped to her lap, her hands fiddling with a small pouch. “You kissed me and then a few hours later you stabbed me in the back. I’ve imagined so many times how I would kill you.” 

Lexa stood abruptly to her feet, emotions rolling off of her in waves. “If that is what you need to do to heal yourself, please do.” 

“No, you don’t get to be the martyr.” Lexa’s brow furrowed at the word, but she remained silent. “Their eyes follow me everywhere. There are so many of them. Since I’ve landed on this goddamned planet, all I’ve known is death. I am so tired of it. I have killed so many of my own people. Of your people. The Mountain Men.” 

“If death has no meaning, life has no worth.” Lexa said softly. 

Clarke’s eyes flashed with anger and she took a step towards Lexa. Lexa’s fingers twitched towards where her sword would normally rest. 

“I am so tired of your goddamned lessons. Is that how you live with yourself? Creating pithy phrases that explain away the savagery.” Lexa’s eyes burned with anger but it quickly evaporated. 

“No. That was what Anya used to say to me before I received my burns. The Trikru do not forget their kills, they honor them, regardless of how they were killed. Because for every burn you receive, it is a mark of survival.” 

“So killing the villagers at Tondc was survival? Did you receive 250 burns for that?” Clarke spat out harshly. “Or was that just necessary?” 

Lexa hesitated then pulled the loose white tunic over her head, leaving her in a simple bandeau and dark leggings. Lexa turned around, exposing her back to Clarke. 

Her left shoulder was covered in tiny circles, all branded into her skin, warping it. Some looked years old and Clarke’s heart couldn’t help but jump at the thought of a younger Lexa receiving the marks. Row by row, the burns tangled around each other. A fresh row of angry marks stood out starkly against Lexa’s tanned skin. 

“Who…” 

“For the Mountain Men you said were on our side. I will not apologize for killing the Maunon though. They tortured my people for far too long.” Lexa said over her shoulder, one hand tangled in her hair. 

“And for Tondc?” Clarke asked sharply, her cheeks tinged pink from the sight of Lexa’s bare skin. 

Lexa turned back to Clarke. “Here,” she gestured to her right hip where a tattoo wrapped around the outcropping of her hipbone. A tangle of thorny vines spread along the tanned skin, “It means unfaithful.” Lexa’s fingers then traced up to her rib cage where an angry looking flame fanned along her ribs, a few bold symbols standing out amongst the flames. “This-uh-this is for the betrayal.” Clarke’s brow furrowed at the break in Lexa’s voice. This was not the Lexa she had once known. 

Clarke’s eyes traced along the hard lines of Lexa’s body, over the swirling tattoos and strong muscles. Lexa, for the first time in her life, felt self-conscious. Here was the girl who had been yelling at her moments ago. 

“So, Skai Prisa, I have taken my marks.” Lexa slid her shirt back over effortlessly, breaking Clarke’s gaze. 

Clarke took a step back, suddenly aware of her proximity to Lexa. 

“Well, I’m glad you’ve made peace with yourself.” Clarke’s anger resurfaced, but it felt weaker than before. “But my every moment is weighed down by the memory of those who’s lives I ended. My father, the other 52, Finn, so many have died.” Clarke inhaled a shaky breath, “I have to ask, what were you thinking when you agreed to that deal?” 

Lexa brought her eyes up to Clarke’s and the pain Clarke saw there almost knocked her backwards. “It was the only way to save all of my people. I will do whatever it takes to protect my people.” 

“At the price of mine,” hissed Clarke, her fury finding its way back. “The Arkers have lost so much. I have lost so much.” 

“And you think I haven’t?” Clarke expected anger or frustration, but not heartbreaking sadness. “I have nobody left. Everybody around me dies and I still carry on. I do not have the luxury to be weak.” Clarke opened her mouth to say something, but Lexa continued, “There is nobody left for me.” Lexa’s shoulders sagged downward and Clarke could no longer see the fearless commander of the Twelve Clans. She could only see Lexa, a young girl who was filled with so much sadness and pain. 

“Lexa…” Clarke pulled Lexa into her arms. The taller girl froze for a moment, and Clarke couldn’t help but wonder when was the last time somebody had touched Lexa affectionately? Lexa sagged against her, her fingers clutching at the back of Clarke’s jacket. Clarke brushed a hand down Lexa’s thick hair, just like her mother had done so many years ago. 

Lexa inhaled sharply against Clarke’s shoulder. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, but she would not allow herself to cry. 

After all, love is weakness, isn’t it?

**Author's Note:**

> I should probably just start making a standard apology, shouldn't I?
> 
> say hi on tumblr: jessivajones.tumblr.com
> 
> and thank you so much to my beta/sounding board, Vicky - check out her fabulous tumblr: romnovs.tumblr.com


End file.
